The Next Generation
by RBTL
Summary: An in-depth look at each of the next gen kids. Teddy, Victoire, Fred, Dominique, Molly, Lucy, Roxanne, James, Albus Severus, Scorpius, Rose, Louis, Lily, Hugo, Lysander & Lorcan - a complete series of one-shots - no pairings
1. Teddy Lupin

These are character bios for each of the next gen kids that JKR came up with. To see how they all relate to one another check out the family tree she released here: http : / / www . hp-lexicon . org / wizards / weasley . html (don't forget to take out the spaces!) The bios are in order by age, oldest to youngest. They are set about 14 years after the last chapter of DH and about 5 years before the epilogue of DH.

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**Teddy Lupin**

My grandmother told me once, "Teddy, today is history. Years from now your kids will ask you about this day. Today and everything you did today will be remembered."

Turns out that is the truth. Everything that happens comes back to haunt you. A day doesn't go by that someone doesn't mention my parents and how much I look like them or act like them. "As clumsy as your mother!" they say as they shake their heads and smile. Or they will watch me perform a spell and proclaim me "just as smart" as my father. When I'm not morphed, I have my father's eyes and my mother's nose and the Black family's grin. Even Grandmeda tells me I have my Grandpa Ted's chin. Some days I feel like nothing I own belongs to me.

Harry is the only one who seems to realize I'm not my parents. He'll mention off-hand that my mum was more adventurous than I was and my father more cautious. He laughs at me when he sees me wearing bright orange hair, telling me neither of my parents ever tried that particular hair colour. Harry tells me stories about his life, but he doesn't try to emphasize my parents unless I ask him to. When I asked him why once, he said he knew how it felt to be held up to someone you never met. And he knew how it felt when you seemed to come out less than them. Never one to dumb down his explanations just because I am younger than he is, Harry told me things about my parents when I asked him to, both good and bad things, things that gave me real people to focus on instead of the almighty angels everyone else made them out to be. I love him for that.

The brother I will never have, Harry understands me. He understands when I come to him wondering why I can look like anyone I want and no one else can. When I ask him why I hate to look at the full moon and why my whole body aches some nights, he explains to me what it means to be the son of a lycanthrope. He tells me what happens when you grow up, how your body changes, and your mind changes, and you feel like no one else on Earth could ever understand how you feel. On the eve of my fourteenth birthday he listened when I talked about why I hate how being around Victoire because my tongue starts to trip over itself and my mind feels sluggish and stuck and how when she smiles at the other boys my chest hurts like there is a rabid dog tearing it up. And he understands.

I hate Hogwarts because none of the adults there are Harry. Professor Longbottom and Headmistress McGonagall look at me like I'm one of my parents who have come back from the dead. The other professors expect me to be smarter, more courageous, more like someone I'm not. My grades are far above average. I follow the rules and never get detention. I know I'm a good kid, but I'm never good enough for them.

The only thing I want in life is to be known for who I am. Since first year I have had the top grades in Gryffindor. This year I finished with the highest grades in the entire fourth year. I date girls like they are recyclable, except for the girls in the Weasley family because I know even Harry would have my head for that. I'm the champion chess player in Gryffindor, even better than the best seventh year. My morphing is top quality; I can impersonate everyone in the school. My acting is good too. I spent an entire weekend as Fred Weasley when he was sick in the hospital wing and no one even noticed I was him. I'm just about off the charts in almost anything you can think of. Still, people tell me I can do better, that I should do something else.

Grandmeda, my Grandma Andromeda, tells me that I need to do less, that I need to slow down before I burn myself out. When I slow down though, all I can think of is, look at what happened to my parents. They slowed down, they got clumsy, and they didn't see those Death Eaters sneak up behind them. Now they are gone and I'm alone. So I can't slow down, because I don't want to lose myself, lose who I am or who I will be. So I stay focused, work hard, and fight to be the best. Maybe then I will make my mark on the world and people will ask about this moment in time, the moment I aced a Potions test or won a Quidditch match. Then someone will tell them, "Teddy, not his mother or his father, did that." And I will finally have my own part in history.


	2. Victoire Weasley

**Victoire Weasley**

I can remember being four years old and wanting a teddy bear. Mother brought Dominique and me to Diagon Alley with her on a shopping trip, and she stopped in Trevor's Toys for Tots to pick up a birthday gift for my Cousin Molly's birthday. I saw this adorable little bear up on a shelf, dressed in a pink robe with a little wand, and wanted it so badly I thought my heart would break if I couldn't have it. The shopkeeper rushed over and plucked the bear from the shelf. He handed it to me with a wide smile, saying, "Here, sweetie, you can have her. No charge!"

Hugging it to my body tightly, I saw Mother frown. She snatched the bear from my arms and replaced it on the shelf. "Thank you, but no thank you, monsieur." She patted me on the head. "Stop wanting it, Victoire." I couldn't though. The storekeeper kept handing me the bear and declaring it was free, and Mother kept putting it away. Finally she gave up and let me hold the bear while she picked out the gift. I thought I would even be able to keep the bear after we left the store, but just before we walked through the door she took the bear away and handed it to the storekeeper. I felt miserable, but I did not cry. Mother had taught me that it was never ladylike to cry in public.

After dinner that night, Mother told Dad what had happened. Dad sighed and called me over to his chair in front of the fire. Pulling me up into his lap, he tried to explain to me that I wasn't supposed to want things like that. Mother chimed in with words I had never heard before, like Veela and non-human. At that point, all I took from the conversation was that I was no longer allowed to want anything.

So, I tried not to. After I started primary school, I made sure that I didn't want to be the smartest in the class or to be friends with anyone. I didn't play with the other kids, because if I did not play with them I would not have to worry about wanting their toys or snacks. It didn't hurt so much when I sat alone on the playground if I told myself that I was better than they were.

The hardest place to not want things was at home. When my baby brother Louis came along, it was hard to not want things. Dom and Louis didn't have to worry about that; if Louis wanted a bottle, he cried, and if Dom wanted a story, she asked for one. Mother stopped paying attention to me, as she was preoccupied by the baby, and Dom started to steal all of Dad's attention. It was okay though. I wasn't allowed to want their attention.

I wasn't allowed to want attention from anyone. When people came to visit my parents, they would coo over Louis and tell Dom how darling she was. I stayed in my room and played with my toys. Not wanting things was easier when you couldn't see other people getting them. I hated going to Grandma Molly's; all of the other kids would show off their new toys and try to get the adults to give them attention. My time was usually spent helping Grandma Molly in the kitchen or feeding one of the younger kids.

There was one thing I never even dared to think about. Most things I could ignore and the wanting would go away. Hogwarts was different. If I heard about Hogwarts, my mind would start to wander and I would daydream about what it would be like to go to school there. Mother would usually tap me on the shoulder at that point and shake her head. The frown that accompanied that gesture always made me feel like a failure. I avoided stories about Hogwarts like the plague. It was only when I was in my room, alone, at night that I let myself dream about what it would be like.

When I received my Hogwarts letter, I almost didn't believe it was real. I was so afraid that it was just another dream. It was real though. That evening Dad again called me over to where he sat next to the fire. Mother pulled two chairs next to his and we all sat down. This time when they mentioned things like Veela, I had a better idea of what they were talking about. Mother explained to me that I had gotten the better part of her Veela genes and that I had powers that none of the other children at Hogwarts would have. She told me that wanting something was the easiest way of using the powers and that I should avoid it whenever possible. Over the course of the next month she showed me how to use my powers. She also showed me how to turn them off, but I was still not allowed to want anything. My control over my powers was precarious, and the slightest upset to my emotional balance could make me lose control of them.

I spent my first two years at Hogwarts deliriously happy. I had friends for the first time because my grasp on my powers was better and I could control them enough to not turn them on when one of my dorm mates got a new skirt. I even had a best friend, Teddy Lupin. We had met at Grandma Molly's a few times before I started school, and he took me under his wing when I was sorted into Gryffindor. Even though I'm a year below him, he doesn't treat me like I'm stupid and I love to be around him.

Plus, I don't have to worry about anything around him. I can want things. When I told Mother that he didn't seem to react if I accidentally used my powers, she nodded and said it was probably because he was a Metamorphagus and had a bit of werewolf DNA in him. It's just nice to be able to be myself around someone, regardless of the reasons behind it.

I haven't appreciated it as much lately. I keep wishing that Teddy was affected by my powers. You see, I want something now, more than I ever wanted anything else. More than I ever wanted that teddy bear. Even more than I wanted to attend Hogwarts. What I want is Teddy himself. And he doesn't want me. All of the time he used to spend with me, he spends with Dom. Ever since she started Hogwarts this year Teddy has been hanging out with her and showing her the ropes. I hate it. I finally thought I had someone who was mine, whom I could want, whom I could try to get attention from. I've lost him, though. I tried turning on my powers to full strength in the library last week, after I caught him studying with Dom. He didn't even notice me. Dom shot me a glare and almost every other boy in the room swarmed over to me, but he never even looked at me. I fled to my dorm in tears that day.

It hurts, but I'll get over it eventually. I should be used to this by now. I should have known that he would never be mine. I should have known that this would be like that first teddy and that I would only be allowed to hold on to him for a little while. It's just going to be a lot harder to get over this Teddy.


	3. Fred Weasley

**Fred Weasley**

I don't know what Dad wants from me. Seriously, he's like when someone flushes the toilet while you are in the bath; he goes from cold to hot in seconds. He tells me about the secret passages at Hogwarts, and then he forbids me to use them. In my care packages he sends me his newest inventions, but I'm not allowed to use them at school. His letters include tons of rules I'm supposed to follow, yet he always closes with "Have fun!"

I've tried doing everything I can to please him. In my first year at Hogwarts I played all kinds of tricks on people. There wasn't a week that went by that I didn't end up with detention. I know my professors called me Forge behind my back, saying that I was as bad as Dad and Uncle Fred put together. I figured Dad would be happy about that.

I got home that summer and Dad laid into me. I was grounded for almost the whole break. I don't know why either. Dad usually gets a kick out of jokes. In fact, one time when I did detention with Filch, I spent a whole evening organizing the lists of everything bad he and Uncle Fred did.

It wasn't like I did anything serious. All I did was make people grow long nose hair or turn their skin purple. Dad seemed to think they were Azkaban worthy though, from the way he overreacted.

So, this year, I did my best to not play tricks on anyone or get into any kind of trouble. I got good grades, not top of the class, but above average. The professors repeatedly remarked to my face that I had done a real turn around. I actually really like getting praised. Playing tricks on people has always been more Roxi's thing. I would rather curl up in bed with an adventure book or play Quidditch. This year has been a lot happier for me.

Then, I went home for Christmas break. This first question out of Dad's mouth was if I had played any tricks this year. I told him no, because I thought he would be happy with me. Instead, he frowned and started scolding Roxi about something she did that morning. He didn't punish me for not playing tricks, but he spent the whole break shaking his head and frowning at me.

I really don't understand him. He wants me to be someone I'm not. He looks at me sometimes like he wants to see someone else in me. I guess he wants me to replace Uncle Fred, my namesake. I'm not Uncle Fred. I'm Freddie, and I like who I am. Dad doesn't. He wants me to be just silly enough, without taking risks that could harm me. I've even seen him pausing in the middle of sentences, hoping I will finish them for him like Grandma Molly says Uncle Fred did. I never know what to do when he expects things like that from me. I never finish the sentences the way he wants me to, and I just can't find that balance between silly and serious.

That's why I love it here at Hogwarts. Now that I'm away from home, I can breathe a little. This year has been awesome. My friends are so cool and I love learning about everything, but especially Potions. My dream is to be a Potions master someday. I can't tell my dad about that though-he expects me to join him at Weasley's Wizarding Wheezes. I don't want to learn potions just so that I can create jokes; my true love in potions is medical potions. We made a basic Swelling Solution this year and it is the most interesting thing I've ever done in school. I can't wait until we start on things like Pepper-Up Potion and Draught of Living Death.

I think Mum understands how I feel about Dad. She never was one for jokes; while she likes seeing the effects, she doesn't find planning them to be all that fun. She did some interesting things before she had us kids too. Right after the war she went to work on creating better Quidditch supplies. She created the Bouncing Bludger, which bounces lightly off of you and is great for kids' games. Then she did a stint in Medi-wizardry and studied a bit of Charms work. She loves Charms and I know she wants to become a Charms Master once Roxi starts school.

I don't have to worry about Dad being left to run the shop and create inventions by himself either. Roxi adores playing tricks on people, usually me. I know she would be happy to work with Dad. He's got this dream that it will be "Forge and Gred" again, but it won't be. I hate feeling like I have to live up to a dead man's legacy. How can I be someone, something I'm not? Why does my dad even expect that from me?

I'll keep trying though. I hate it when Dad gives me that disapproving frown. I would do just about anything to keep that frown from appearing. It's awful trying to live my life so that I can please someone else, but he's my dad, you know? I love him and I want him to be proud of me. I know Mum would be proud of me no matter what, but she's a mum. I don't know. I guess I'm just going to have to find that balance and make Dad happy. Then maybe I'll be able to balance my own happiness with his.


	4. Dominique Weasley

**Dominique Weasley**

Grandpa Arthur loves watching Muggle movies on his specially outfitted television set. It's the only thing that engages his mind anymore. I like to watch the movies with him when I'm at my grandparent's house. Sometimes a quote from a movie strikes me as sounding cool, but no quote has ever fit me as much as one from an American movie, aptly titled American Beauty. It goes, "Sometimes there's so much beauty in the world I feel like I can't take it, like my heart's going to cave in." That's basically the story of my life.

I knew, practically from the time I was born, that I was different from my mother and my sister. They get stares from people when they go out in public and all kinds of attention paid to them. It's because they both have highly functioning Veela genes. My mother is probably one of the most beautiful women on Earth, and my sister is not far behind her, though they look nothing alike. Victoire's long blond hair has a touch of Dad's redness in it, and her eyes are of a gorgeous hazel that is usually sea green. Mother has the same colouring that I do, blonde hair and blue eyes, though that is about all we share. I never get any of the attention that they get when they go out in public.

That's because I don't have any Veela genes. I managed to inherit entirely human genes from both of my parents. When we are out and about, I always feel invisible around them. Dad's got his scars that people pay attention to, cooing over him for being such a strong and manly war hero. Mother and Vicki have their Veela charisma and attractiveness. All I have is muddy blonde hair and an inherent shyness. More than anything, I wish I had the ability to talk to total strangers like they do, to stand up in a crowded room and be noticed.

When I was little, people used to remark on my colouring, which was far lighter and covered with less of my ugly freckles, saying that I was quite the beautiful child. Then Vicki would walk into the room and all attention would leave me. I knew it was because of her Veela powers. The only Veela gene I managed to inherit is the one that tells me when someone else is using Veela powers. When I was the one getting the attention, Vicki would turn her powers on full blast. Mother scolded her for it once and after that she made sure not to do it when Mother was around. Over time I simply realized that Vicki wanted the attention and that she could get it without even trying.

It was okay if she did that, because I didn't mind being in the background. Mother loved us both equally and Dad always treated us exactly the same... until they found out that Mother was pregnant again. Louis was a surprise baby and they adored him since they thought they would never have another child after me. Victoire adored him as well, because they had something in common. Louis's Veela genes were just as strong as hers. On top of that, he had Dad's hair and Mother's eyes. The four of them together matched. They looked like a family. Dad had the same few freckles across his nose as my siblings did, but mine were everywhere. With my rampant freckles and plain blue eyes, I knew I looked quite different. Still it hurt when a waitress asked them one day if I was a cousin or adopted.

That doesn't matter anymore though. I'm at Hogwarts now. I don't have to worry about whether anyone thinks my sister is more beautiful than I am or if my darling little brother is cuter than I am. I do love my family, but it's nice to be at school and know that people are my friends because they like me for me. My dorm mates are my best friends. And here at school Victoire can't turn on her Veela powers because the guys ambush her, so I know she can't steal my friends. The teachers are used to whole families attending school, so they don't judge me by my sister's actions; instead, they judge me by my own. This is probably the happiest I have ever been.

I wish for only one thing, and I know it will never happen. Teddy Lupin is what I wish I had. He and Vicki have been best friends since they were little. I've had a crush on him ever since he started paying attention to me, even when Vicki had her powers on as strong as she could get them. Never before had anyone noticed me when she had done that. So, I have carried this small little flame of adoration for him in my heart. Every day I see them together at school it gets dimmer and dimmer though. Teddy says his werewolf genes give him immunity to the Veela attraction, but he still prefers to be around Vicki more than me. I must be really pathetic if I can't keep someone's attention even when no unfair advantage has been given to my sister.

I'll keep trying my hardest though. I'm working as hard as I can in classes so I can impress him. I also joined the Quidditch team because he said he loves to watch the game even if he isn't any good at it. I wanted to dye my hair that cool turquoise colour he usually keeps it, but Dad told me I wasn't allowed to do that until I turned seventeen, so I'm waiting. If I work hard to become the best and brightest, I know I can catch his attention. Then I will finally be better than my sister, even if I never get to be a Veela.


	5. Molly Weasley

**Molly Weasley**

Mother says that the most important thing to remember is that a young lady should always be polite. Father says that the most important thing to remember is that family is more important than anything else. I think that the most important thing to remember is to be kind to everyone you meet. That's why I am so excited that I will be starting Hogwarts in just a few months. The thing I want most is to make a bunch of new friends.

Mother and Father are both purebloods, so they decided to home school Lucy and me. I rarely get to play with children aside from my cousins. Most of them go to Muggle schools, and they tell me the most interesting stories. I wish I could see things like televisions and computers. We only have the Wizarding Wireless, and Mother leaves it on an awful oldies station most of the time.

Rose tells me the best stories, even though she is so much younger than I am. She tells me about faraway places with names like Saudi Arabia and Argentina. These are places filled with people we have never met and probably never will, she says. I can't even imagine that there are that many people in the world. I know almost all of the people in our neighbourhood, and when we go to Diagon Alley I can greet most of the shopkeepers and many of the customers by name. I love meeting new people and I'm always glad to make friends with someone.

Mother says I am too friendly and that it will get me into trouble someday. She says there are bad people out there, people who care nothing about you as long as they can use you to get what they want. When she tells me this she usually stares above my head. I asked Father what she was looking at once, and he told me that she was remembering. Her brother died in the big war years and years ago, Father said, and she feels it was her fault for supporting Muggleborn' rights.

Father lost a brother too, I know. His name was Fred, like my cousin, and he wasn't very close to my father. I know Father misses him though, because when he warns Lucy and me to be careful and not to play with potions or spells or get into fights, he gets the same look Mother does. I feel bad for him, so I try to do what they say and not talk to strangers. It's hard though, especially when everyone looks so nice.

Wouldn't a bad people look bad? My storybooks always show the bad guys as old and ugly, with wrinkled skin and missing teeth. A bad person would never smile at me like the ladies in the lifts and they would never help me out of the Floo like the men who work at the Leaky Cauldron. Everyone must have at least some goodness in them somewhere, because a completely bad person would never be able to wear a happy grin or laugh at a joke.

Mother laughs when I tell her things like that. She pats me on the head and tells me I have lovely dreams, but that I should really be doing my work. Father shakes his head and sighs, murmuring that he once though that too, and didn't the Ministry go and prove him wrong. I don't think it's a silly or stupid idea though, so I'll just keep on believing it.

Maybe there will be someone at Hogwarts who has the same ideas at me. I just can't wait till I am able to attend Hogwarts. I don't really care which House I end up being sorted into. Father was a Gryffindor and Mother was a Ravenclaw. I think being in Hufflepuff sounds nice too. I'm not sure I would like being a Slytherin much, because they sound like they are a little bit mean, but I'm sure I'll like it if the Sorting Hat decides that it's the best place for me. I just want to be in a House where I will make friends. Victoire and Dominique and Fred are all going to be at Hogwarts with me, so I know that I won't be alone, but it will be a little bit lonely if they are my only friends there. Fred says it is pretty easy to make friends at Hogwarts, because you generally have a lot in common with your House mates, so you get along pretty well.

I won't worry too much though. I'll have my relatives no matter what and it really isn't that hard to make friends with people. Sometimes it can even be fun. I like making friends with all kinds of people, because each person has a story and if you just talk to them you can learn it. Some stories I've learned are sad, like Uncle Fred's. Others, like Mother and Father falling in love and having me and Lucy, are happy stories. I think that, even beyond making friends with people, being happy is what I want to do with my life. It doesn't take much to be happy either, just a good friend or two and some fun times. That is my goal: to live happily ever after.


	6. Lucy Weasley

**Lucy Weasley**

I hate Hogwarts. I want to go there so badly though. Molly fills her letters with stories about meeting new people, which doesn't sound like fun at all, but she also mentions the new spells and potions she's learning. I wish Molly hadn't gone off to Hogwarts.

It's not just that I miss my sister; that's not why I'm upset she's gone. I'm upset because Mother and Father are upset. It's been three months since she left and they've both been moping around like she's dead and gone, instead of just a train ride or Floo journey away.

Father is pathetic. He wanders around in the evenings, picking up pictures of Molly and smiling at her. I've seen him sit in Molly's room and stare at things as if he can't believe she's gone.

Mother is even worse though. She hates working on my lessons with me, I suppose because the chair next to mine at the table sits empty now. I've had to make up assignments for myself out of my textbooks for the last six weeks. Even worse, Mother keeps dragging me along on her shopping trips. She used to take Molly and leave me at home with my books, but I think she's trying to use me to replace Molly.

I hate this. When Molly was around to occupy my parents' attention, I could curl up in my bed and spend all afternoon reading a book or researching some interesting potions or spells. I enjoy learning and I would much rather spend my time learning spells I can't practice yet than being dragged about Diagon Alley by Mother. Father keeps trying to have conversations about cauldron bottoms with me too, something Molly would have put up with, but which bores me to death.

Plus, when Molly was home, she was always willing to listen to me talk. I love to discuss all of the things I learn or the books that I read. Father usually just nods absentmindedly as I talk, working on some paperwork he brought home from the office. Mother starts out interested in what I have to say, but one of her friends will call her up or she'll spot a magazine sitting on the counter and I'll lose all of her attention. Molly never does that when I talk to her. She sits and listens to me and discusses things with me. She'll help me with my homework if I need it, or she'll lounge on my rug while I describe to her whatever adventure took place in the last book I read.

I guess I miss her a lot too. Mother and Father are pathetic in their wishes that she was here, but I've been moping about a little bit too. Molly just has a way of brightening up the whole world around her. I can't do that, but I wouldn't want to. The shadows are where I spend my time and where I am happiest. Being the centre of attention has always been Molly's thing, not mine.

My world is the world of knowledge. Reading about history or potions or ancient legends is my passion. I can and have spent whole days sitting in the comfy armchair in the living room with a whole stack of books. I'll read about anything and everything. My uncles give me hand-me-down Quidditch books and I ransack my aunt's houses for old magazines. Mother doesn't know, but I've read her whole romance book collection, the one she hid in her closet so I couldn't find it. Even the most tawdry of those books had some new knowledge in it, and that is why I read. I read so that I can learn.

I know most of the main constellations in the sky and why earthquakes happen. The histories of the last wizarding war and the last Muggle war each have a place in my head. Why is the sky blue, why is grass green, and why does the moon wax and wane are all questions I know the answer to. It's not enough though. I want to perform the spells I know and create the potions I have read about. I want to go to Hogwarts to learn. I don't care about making friends or playing Quidditch. All I want to do is to learn why you can transfigure a toothpick into a needle and how to throw off the Imperius Curse. I want to spend hours in the library reading up on every subject they have books on. I want to study things I can't learn at home, learn about Muggles and curses and magical creatures.

And I want my sister. At Hogwarts I will still have my sister there to keep me company while I read or to talk to about my latest discovery. I won't feel lost and alone and ignored like I do now. I won't be expected to take my sister's place because she will be there making everything all right. I love Hogwarts for the knowledge it stands for, but I hate it for taking my sister away from me.


	7. Roxanne Weasley

**Roxanne Weasley**

Between Dad and Freddie, it's a wonder that I ever have any fun! For a man who runs a joke shop Dad is terribly uptight. Freddie's just plain stuffy. All I ever hear out of either of their mouths is, "Roxanne Elizabeth Weasley, stop that! You are going to kill yourself!" or "Roxi! Please behave like an eight-year-old girl instead of a monkey!"

I think they just don't know how to have fun. So what if I turned Victoire's hair green? It will wash out in a month. Lucy didn't even mind when I changed her stuffed bear into a teapot either. She thought it was cute. I changed it back anyway. Mum complains about me using magic before I even get to Hogwarts, but they are just simple spells. I always make sure to use an adult's wand so the Ministry can't call me in for a hearing. So, it's not like I hurt anyone by playing tricks.

Mum tells me stories sometimes about what Dad and my Uncle Fred were like back before Uncle Fred passed away. She said they were two of the biggest hooligans Hogwarts had ever seen. They even played tricks on her for goodness' sake! Mum says that there was a Yule Ball during her sixth year and that Uncle Fred invited her to go with him. In the middle of the dance he and Dad switched places on her. Dad didn't tell her the truth about that until they got married.

Uncle Fred and Dad ran an illicit joke shop from the Gryffindor common room and snuck around the school late at night. They turned students into canaries and fed them things that made them throw up and gave them nosebleeds. They played tricks on the teachers and left school early. The first thing they did after that was set up a joke shop.

How can you go from being that much of a trickster to not letting your daughter charm her brother's school clothes pink? I suppose it was all because of Uncle Fred. Mum told me once that when Uncle Fred died, it was as if a part of Dad withered up and died too. It was like he became a different person. He was always worried about people attacking him and he hated being around people. It took Mum ages to get him to come out of his shell, she said, and he's never been the same since.

I don't really get it. I never met Uncle Fred, or saw what Dad was like before his brother's death, but I can't imagine becoming a new person just like that. If my brother Freddie died, I'm not quite sure what I would do. Just thinking about it makes me want to cry, so I don't think about it. It is so much more important to be happy than to think about things like that.

That's all I want, really: to be happy. Dad is never happy and Mum's only happy when she isn't around Dad. I think she loved Uncle Fred as much as she loves Dad and that whenever she sees Dad she sees Uncle Fred. Mum gets what I need and she lets me play my little games as long as the other person isn't upset by them. Dad gets upset when I play any kind of tricks though. He says he doesn't want me to get hurt, but how could feeding Hugo Canary Creams hurt me? That doesn't even hurt Hugo.

Freddie, well, he's just Freddie, I suppose. He hates it when I play tricks on him and he always wants me to behave. I don't do what he says though, because he isn't that much older than me, so he can't boss me around. He's at Hogwarts now anyway, so the only time I see him is during the summer and at breaks. Sometimes I wish I didn't even see him then. When he comes home Mum and Dad spend all of their time with him, asking him about school and his friends. Just because he isn't home all of the time he gets more attention than I do.

It's almost worse when he's off at school though. Not only do I miss him, but he isn't there to take away Mum and Dad's attention. That means they are constantly telling me what to do and what not to do. Dad is always looking over my shoulder and keeping track of what I'm doing. My school work is scrutinized and my room has to be spotless. It's like Dad doesn't know how to keep his attention balanced, so whomever he is with gets the brunt of it, which would be me since Freddie's gone.

I cannot wait until I get to go off to Hogwarts myself. When Freddie deems me worthy of hearing stories about his life, he tells me some of the coolest things. There are hidden passages in Hogwarts that he uses to sneak around with his friends. The house elves in the kitchen apparently remember Dad and Uncle Fred and so they are happy to get Freddie all kinds of snacks and things, especially if he promises not to let Aunt Hermione visit the Gryffindor common room with her socks and caps and things. He always sounds so… happy when he talks about Hogwarts. I just can't wait for my turn. Hogwarts seems like a place where kids can have a little freedom and the chance to breathe.


	8. James Potter

**James Potter**

People stare at me when I go out in public. Not just me though, they stare at my whole family. Mum and Dad sat me down and explained it once. They told me that Dad did a lot of good things for a lot of people, especially after he became an Auror and started hunting down Death Eaters. Mum said she had been a professional Quidditch player. Both of them were very well known, they said, and that was why people stared at us.

That just blew my mind. I was about six at the time and I had just started to realize that people seemed to think I was different from all of the other kids for some reason. Now my parents were telling me they were famous and basically just cool. The next time I went out in public I noticed something else about the people's stares. They seemed to judge me, deciding with a mere gaze whether I was as interesting or as cool as my parents were. In their eyes I was nothing unless I could do more than what my parents had done. I knew I could.

Since then I have been working on doing just that. I practice flying on the broom I got for my eighth birthday last year every day. Dad says that he has to work with Muggles a lot, so when I go to school with the Muggles, I study hard so that I can learn as much as I can about their world. I read all of the books on spells and potions and things that get left around the house, sometimes even sneaking the books I'm not supposed to touch off of the top shelf in the library. I know I'm not as smart as Teddy is, but I try my hardest to learn as much as I can so that I can become an Auror one day.

As cool as my mum is, my dad is the coolest person I know. He and Uncle Ron, who is his trainee, go to work every other week. They spend a week on duty and then they come home for a break and tell us the coolest stories. They caught a Death Eater named Avery once. He had holed himself up into a cave with probably fifty trapping hexes around it. That was one of the times Dad had to work with Muggles. He had them blow up half of the cliff the cave was in with dynamite! Avery was so frightened he lost control of his traps and some of them turned on him.

Dad came home from that catch a little injured from where a big rock had smashed into his leg during the explosion, but he was fine. Mum didn't let us go see him in St. Mungo's for a week after he got back. I don't know why he was even still in there. He said it was an easy way to get a vacation, and then Dad winked at us. Mum frowned at him and left, with Al and Lily trailing behind her, but I climbed up in bed with him and stayed till the nurse kicked me out. Dad still has a limp sometimes that everyone asks about. That is when he gets to tell that story. Everyone says Dad's job is dangerous, but he never gets badly injured, just a bit beaten up. I think being an Auror sounds cool.

Dad always meets people he knows when we go out. I think he knows just about every wizard in the world. People are forever coming up to him and shaking his hand or greeting him. I don't know very many people myself, just my Muggle friends and my cousins. I can't wait until I grow up and become an Auror like Dad. Then I'll be the guy that everyone talks to on the street and who gets all kinds of presents in the mail at Christmas time.

I wish I didn't have to share my dad with Lily and Al so much though. When he comes home from the Ministry, those two jump on him and demand stories and hugs and kisses. Dad has to give them what they want or they scream. I try to give him a chance to breathe. My favourite times are when he has tucked Al and Lily into bed and I'm still awake, as the oldest. Dad will help me get ready for bed and then he will lay down in my room with me and tell me a story, sometimes about a recent mission and sometimes about missions he went on before I was even born. I'm the only one who hears these special bedtime stories, because Lily would rather hear about princesses and scary stories upset Al's stomach. So, for a little while at least, I get my dad all to myself.

If I do nothing else in my life, I want to be as good a guy as my dad. He is an awesome father and he has such a neat job. I want to be an Auror like him and get married and have kids, though I might only have one so that my kid won't have to share me or his mom with any other kids. That would be the best life. So, when people ask me what I wanna be when I grow up, I say my dad, even though this usually makes them giggle.


	9. Albus Severus Potter

**Albus Severus Potter**

Thinking makes me nauseous. That is because when I start to think, I start to worry. And worrying upsets me, which, in turn, upsets my stomach. Then again, it seems like just about everything upsets my stomach. Mum says I have a nervous stomach and that I will grow out of it eventually.

When I started going to the Muggle school this year, I had an upset stomach nearly every morning for the first month. I couldn't help it though; I didn't know anyone from the school, and what if they didn't like me? James said that the Muggles were very different from us. I was terribly afraid I wouldn't have anything in common with any of the other kids and that no one would want to be my friend.

My stomach doesn't get upset at school anymore, unless something big is going on. I spent the whole morning before the Winter Skits performance throwing up in the bathroom.

I do not mind having a squicky stomach that much. I don't like throwing up all the time, of course, but I'm pretty used to it. My reaction to stress has been the same since I was a little baby. Nearly all of my adult relatives have told me the story of my first Weasley family dinner. I was just two weeks old at the time and being passed from person to person. It upset me so badly that when I was thrust into Uncle Charlie's arms, I spat up my entire bottle down the front of him. Uncle Charlie's aversion to babies is as obvious as Uncle George's missing ear, so he was less than thrilled at that. He never so much as hugged me until I was four because of that.

James teases me sometimes for being a "nervous Nellie." It annoys me to no end. He'll get it someday though, because when he is an Auror, I will be the Minister of Magic. As his boss, I'll assign him the worst duties, like staking out a graveyard full of Inferi. At least, I will if I can keep my stomach in line long enough to become Minister.

That's my dream though. I've wanted to be the Minister for ages and ages, ever since I met Minister Kingsley for the first time. He's the current Minister and he is about the coolest adult I know. I like him because he is kind of like me, quiet and unobtrusive. He's also powerful and intimidating though. I've seen him silence an entire room with a word before. Plus, unlike me, he never seems to be nervous, even when he gives speeches in front of hundreds of wizards. I want to do that someday, to stand up in front of a crowd and tell people what to do without my insides feeling like there are newly opened Chocolate Frogs in them.

I hate that feeling. It reminds me of unhappy things, like Mum and Dad fighting or doing show-and-tell in front of the whole class. It's the same feeling I get when James is mean to me or Lily starts to cry or one of the Muggles at school calls me a freak. Dad says freak is a very bad word that we should never use, so I really hate it when they call me that.

I don't get along with the Muggle kids very well. They say I'm weird because of my stomach. Luckily it's only my stomach that makes me weird. I haven't had any magic spills in public like James has. He tends to spill magic when he gets upset. Still, somehow he always manages to talk himself out of any situation. I just clam up... and throw up.

And Lily, she's so easygoing; I don't think anything upsets her. She is only four, so I guess that is part of the reason. All she really cares about is tea parties and dressing up her dolls. Even when Mum and Dad are screaming, she'll just barge into my room demanding I read her a picture book or play Exploding Snap with her.

Dad and Mum are really good at talking to people too, unless they are trying to talk to each other. They are famous because of their jobs, so people come up to us on the streets wanting to shake their hands or snap their pictures. The older ladies will pinch Dad on the cheek, saying they remember when he was just a little thing. Guys will come up to Mum and talk to her about Quidditch, which always upsets Dad. Mum gets even more upset when the younger ladies come up and hug Dad or kiss him on the cheek. Some of their loudest fights were over that. I remember because whenever a girl or a guy walks up to them, my stomach turns over like it does when they argue.

I wish I knew some way to keep my stomach from doing that. Mum gives me potions to calm my stomach, but they don't work very well. Dad's taken me to all kinds of Healers at St. Mungo's too, but most of them just offer the same potions that don't do much and say I'll grow out of it. I can't wait until I do grow out of it. That's when I'm going to be able to stand up and take control and be the leader I know I can be.


	10. Scorpius Malfoy

**Scorpius Malfoy**

I have heard kids say I was born with a silver wand in my hand, but I was not. Instead I, Scorpius Hyperion Malfoy, was born in a dilapidated manor, with my grandma for a midwife and my dad down at the town bar getting drunk. The family has enough of the old money left that we can buy near top quality clothing and other items, but our house is turning into a hovel and things that are not visible to the public are kept to the bare essentials. When Hermione Weasley got the House Elf Payment Act passed through the Wizengamot, we turned out all of our house elves, much to Mother's distress. I have always had enough to eat, but the shoes hidden beneath my high-class robes are old and scuffed and half-a-size too small.

Everything in my life depended on whether it would make the Malfoy heritage proud, or if it would lead it to utter ruin. Our image was everything.

Grandfather refused to realize how little money we had left. Father claimed that we were fine, as long as the Weasleys never found out they have more than we do. Though she spent most of her time in her bedroom or at Aunt Daphne's house, when Mother discussed the situation, it was only to complain that she needed more clothing and jewellery. And, down in the kitchen, Grandma and I did our best to ignore them all. We cooked up feasts fit for kings, or at least the middle class, from things we could find in the habitually empty cupboards. One Christmas we went out into the woods near the manor, which had once belonged to us, but had been sold to some creditors. We hid in the bushes, and Grandma told me to cover my eyes. I peeked and watched her as she aimed her wand at a large buck and murmured a spell. I had never heard it before. The green light and the feeling that accompanied it made me shudder.

Mother, Father, and Grandfather praised Grandma on finding such a superb animal. She nodded humbly and ate her home grown peas. I abstained from the meat as well. I had seen her shudder physically when she cast the spell, and just thinking about that moment made me lose my appetite. We never had any big game like that again, but Grandma learned how to set magical snares that would allow you to catch, kill, and skin an animal without ever touching it. So, sometimes we had hares or Blast-Ended Skrewts for dinner, both of which were remarkably good in stew.

But Grandma had not been out of bed for weeks. The last few days, we had not had much to eat. I cooked what I could from what we had in the kitchen and garden, but Grandma never taught me how to work the trapping spells, and I was not good enough in the kitchen to make anything from the leftovers. Personally, I could care less, but Mother stormed off to Aunt Daphne's yesterday, and Father and Grandfather both groused about the house. Grandma did not tell them how sick she was, so they came in and complained to her about not getting out of bed. Their words upset me terribly, and I tried to defend Grandma, but she merely placed her hand on my arm and shook her head.

As her illness worsened, she started talking more and more in small signals. When she did speak aloud, it was a soft, wheezing sound that was quickly followed up by harsh, rasping coughs. I had been keeping her propped up in bed and giving her Pepper-Up with lemon and honey, which she always made for me when I was sick. It was not helping. Her voice was getting weaker and weaker, as were her motions. I had not been around sick people very often in my seven years, and I did not know what one does when someone is sick. Grandma was the one who nursed all of us to health, feeding us teas and potions and casting healing spells on us. The spells I stumblingly read from books in the library did nothing to help her. She said nothing would.

She told me stories, sometimes, around the coughs. Stories about the war, stories I had never heard before. Tom Riddle and Harry Potter and Albus Dumbledore were people I had heard about before. But the way she talked about them was different from how Grandfather discussed them. Her Riddle was evil, a terrible force that forced her and my father to do despicable things to keep Grandfather safe. Harry Potter, instead of being an idiotic teenager, was a young boy faced with battling a man far stronger than himself, a boy who succeeded. The wisest man of the age was what she called Albus Dumbledore, a man who had offered to save Father's life even as he faced death. She let me ask her questions, because in these stories I learned things I had never before considered. This was a taboo topic in my life. No one had ever talked to me about Harry Potter or the war before. Grandfather would at times boast about it and Mother would complain about how horrid it had been, but Grandma always sidestepped the issue and Father turned green at the mere mention of it.

In the middle of a story about how she told the Dark Lord that Potter was dead, her eyes drifted closed for a moment and her voice trailed off. I figured she had merely fallen asleep as she had taken to doing, so I reached over and shook her gently, but she did not wake. Her skin was growing cooler to the touch and she still refused to wake. It took me an hour to realize she had left this world, and another hour to gather my wits back together and go find another adult. My best friend, my confidant, my substitute mother was gone, and I was numb at the realization.


	11. Rose Weasley

**Rose Weasley**

When Mum and Dad got married, everybody chipped in to send them on a honeymoon. Uncle George arranged everything and paid for almost half of the trip, since Weasley's Wizarding Wheezes was doing very well and he was always trying to share his money with the rest of his family. Thus they spent four months travelling around the world for their honeymoon. They took trains through Europe and a ship to Africa. Then they flew to Asia and sailed on a cruise ship through the Pacific to South America. Finally they made their way to the United States where they took a road trip through the country for the last month of their journey.

When Hugo and I are tucked into bed, we sometimes get told stories about their adventures. This is my favourite part of the day.

Mum will tuck us in to bed and kiss our foreheads. Then she'll lay down next to us to tell us the story, her hands fluttering above us as she paints pictures with her words. Her stories are about people, both interesting and mundane, but always people. I love to hear about the Japanese sumo wrestlers and the Eskimos of North America. Sometimes her stories are happy, like the story about how Dad wrecked the rental car in India and a nice couple came to their rescue. Other times the stories are sad, especially when she tells us about the little kids they saw dying in Africa from Muggle diseases such as AIDS.

When Dad puts us to sleep, he'll spin us around the room and toss us onto our beds. Once we've settled down he'll pace around the room while telling his stories, his arms gesturing wildly when he gets to the exciting parts. Dad's stories are about places and events, and they are adventures in themselves. My favourite stories are about how he and Mum climbed mountains in the Andes and kayaked through the Amazon. His stories are usually exciting, like his story about jumping off of a bridge in California. Sometimes his stories are more peaceful though, like when he and Mum slept under the stars in Spain.

That was years and years before I was born, but they both remember it fondly, saying it was one of the best experiences of their lives. I think it must have been amazing. I can't imagine riding on an airplane or rafting down a river. Most days I daydream about what it would be like to visit exotic places or meet loads of new people.

I love going to Muggle School because I get to learn about places all over the world. Mum says that is called geography. It amazes me though, that these people all over the world are all human beings like I am and want the same things in life despite how different we are. More than anything else on Earth, what I want is to travel the world. Mum does not really understand my urge to explore, but she buys me books about faraway places anyway. Dad does understand me; when he was working for Uncle George he would travel all over the world to set up franchises. Since he is an Auror now, he rarely travels outside of the United Kingdom. He says he misses travelling, but not as much as he would miss his family if he had to leave home for months at a time.

My first big adventure is going to be Hogwarts. I have years until I am old enough to attend, but I try to learn as much as I can about it anyway. I've read tons of books about it and I always listen when any of my relatives tells stories about their time at Hogwarts. Dad and Mum sometimes tell me stories about Hogwarts at bedtime, stories about ghosts like the Grey Lady and Nearly Headless Nick and stories about how they became friends because of a troll. They talk about professors and other students and sneaking off to the kitchen for midnight snacks. I've tried asking them about what they did outside of classes, but they don't seem to like to talk about it. Dad will mutter something about Quidditch and Mum will giggle nervously and mention studying. I don't know what they must have done outside of class beyond that, but I'm guessing they went on adventures.

I hope I get to be in Gryffindor like them when I attend Hogwarts. Dad says that Gryffindors have the most fun and are the best at Quidditch. Mum says he's making it all up and that every other house is just as good. I still think I'd like to be in Gryffindor though. Ravenclaw would be alright, I suppose, but you have to have courage to go on adventures and I want to go on plenty of those!

One day, when I finish Hogwarts, I will travel all over the world. I want to see Mount Fuji and the Grand Canyon. I want to swim along the Great Barrier Reef and raft down the Nile. I want to live life to the fullest and have fun. I know there is more to life than just enjoying yourself. I want to get married and have kids someday, too. In the end though, what is life worth if you spend it trapped in one place without really living?


	12. Louis Weasley

**Louis Weasley**

It's not my fault Tommy got himself punched in the face at school. I was the one who punched him, but it wasn't my fault. Mother will be furious when she finds out, but I had to do it. He called me a baby for the fourth day in a row. What else could I have done? I'm no baby. I'm five!

Most of the people I know still consider me a baby. Mother stills calls me "bebe" and I hate it. Dad calls me "Kit" because he says my red hair made him think of a baby fox when I was born. I wish they would just call me Louis. I'm not a baby of any kind.

Babies don't go to school and babies can't feed themselves. They can't dress themselves or use the water-closet themselves. They definitely can't name all of their colours or count to thirty. I can do all of these things, so I'm obviously not a baby. Yet Mother still dotes on me like I'm two years old. I hate it! I'm not some pathetic little toddler who needs help with everything. I can take care of myself, just like I did today. A baby would never have punched that brat in the nose like I did.

Grandma Molly is probably the only adult I know who treats me like I'm even a little bit grown up. She lets me help her cook and clean and she doesn't laugh when I tell her stories. She calls me things like "sweet pea" or "dumpling," but it's okay because she calls all of my cousins by those same names. Grandma acts like I am important and that what I want to do is worth something.

Aside from being treated like a baby, life is okay, I guess. I like going to the Muggle school and I have a whole bunch of Muggle friends. My cousins are pretty cool too, so it's fun to go visit everyone on Sunday nights at the Burrow. Lily and Hugo and I play Muggles together and dress up in our school clothes. We pretend to watch television or to talk on the telephone. Or we pretend to be Aurors and Dark Wizards and steal Uncle Harry and Uncle Ron's Auror badges to wear on our robes. Then we chase the bad wizard down and use the play wands Uncle George gives us to turn him or her into a canary.

Sometimes I get a little bit violent. It's not my fault though! I just get so excited that I forget that Lily isn't really a Dark Wizard and I attack her after I catch her. Then one of my Aunts will come over and drag me away to Mother. She just shakes her head and frowns at me before putting me in the corner for time out. I don't think it's really my fault at all though; I think that there is something inside of me that makes me do it. It feels like there is this monster in me that growls and groans at me when I get upset or excited. Then I feel like I have to do _something_ before the monster eats me up.

It makes me want to hurt someone sometimes. When I get really upset I feel like biting and kicking and scratching someone. I can feel my muscles tense up as if I were about to jump. It really scares me. And it happens a lot. Every time I hear someone call me baby, I get upset and the monster starts to wriggle inside of me. Mother will glare at me then, as if she can tell the monster is ready to come out. That usually calms the monster down, but not always.

If the monster won't calm down, I can go punch a pillow or smack one of my stuffed animals and I feel better. At school today I couldn't do anything because Tommy wouldn't get out of my face. So, I punched him. I punched him good and hard, right smack on his eyeball. I bet he ends up with a shiner for weeks and weeks. I suppose I should feel bad about it, but I don't. The thought of him screaming and rolling around on the ground just makes me grin. Victoire says I am bloodthirsty, and I guess I am. It's really the monster though, that makes me want to hurt people.

I don't tell anyone about the monster. I told Lily once and she looked at me like I was crazy. "There's no way you have a monster living inside of you, dumb-head. That's just how you feel when you get angry. Everyone feels like that." I don't think they do. How can people not attack each other if they all feel like this when they get angry? I think there's just a monster in me, that's all. It's not a crazy monster; it just doesn't like people calling me a baby. So, sometimes I have to punch something to make them stop calling me baby and to calm the monster down.


	13. Lily Potter

**Lily Luna Potter**

Mum and Daddy fight, a lot. My brothers never seem to notice, but I hate it. If Al or James is home when they start to fight, I usually hide in their room. When I am the only one home and they are fighting, I try to ignore it. I can't wait until I am old enough to go to school with my brothers.

I don't really know why they fight so much. I do know when they fight though. They fight when Daddy leaves to go to work and when he comes home from work late. They fight when Mum says she wants to play Quidditch again and Daddy says he can't stop working till all those bad Death Eating People are locked up. Mum will usually start to scream then, saying things like she hates being trapped in a house full of kids all day and why can't she work with adults like Daddy? I wish Mum didn't mind playing with me so much. I love it when we have tea parties and things, but I try to leave her alone whenever I can so that she doesn't feel like she's stuck with a kid like me.

Mum and Dad fight the most when Daddy doesn't come home from work. These are the times when we go visit him in the hospital. I know that one time he spent a really long time in St. Mungo's. It felt like years and years, but James tells me all of the time that it was only a week. I don't like going to St. Mungo's to see Daddy though, because when I go they always make me drink yucky potions and cast spells on me that prick my skin or tap my knee or make my skin itch. Daddy must get the same spells and potions because he is always grumpy when we go to see him. Mummy gets grumpy when we go too, and when she brings us back home she yells more than usual.

I love to go over to Grandma Molly's house to play. Grandma always gives me hugs and kisses and Pumpkin Pasties. She and I play in the kitchen, making cookies and pies. Then she lets me curl up in Grandpa's lap. Grandpa usually calls me Ginny, which is Mummy's name, but that is all right because he tells me funny stories about Muggle things. He told me he made a car fly once, which sounds so neat! I usually have to correct him about things though, like how to say "telephone" and "electricity," and that the television doesn't really have tiny people living in it. Grandpa falls asleep a lot, so when he does I sleep with him in his wheelchair. Grandma will usually come over and pick me up and tuck me into bed in what used to be Mum's room. It's very peaceful at Grandma and Grandpa's house.

It's also fun to go visit Grandmeda. She's actually Teddy's grandmother, but she lets my brothers and I call her that too. She and Teddy make all kinds of jokes and play around with each other. Teddy is already in Hogwarts, so he will tell me stories about what it is like when he's home on break. When he isn't home, Grandmeda and I sew doll clothes and talk. I tell her about Mum and Daddy's fights sometimes. She tells me that it's okay for everyone to fight, but she always talks to Mum when I get picked up and the fights stop for a little while. Not for long though.

When I go over to Hugo's house to play, I see Aunt Hermione and Uncle Ron fight sometimes too. They fight differently than my parents do. Aunt Hermione usually just rolls her eyes instead of yelling. Uncle Ron will glare at Aunt Hermione for a minute, until she offers him a little smile, and then he'll grin at her and they'll hug. At home, fights usually end in doors slamming, either from Mum shutting herself up in her bedroom or Daddy storming out of the front door. I've never seen them stop fighting when James or I walk into the room the way my aunt and uncle do when Rose or Hugo walk by. Sometimes I wish I could trade places with Hugo.

I love my family though, even when they fight or Al tickles me or James hides frogs in my bed. I miss my brothers when they go off to Muggle school without me every morning. Daddy leaves so often too, and he goes to work for ages and ages at a time. If I left home I think I would miss them terribly. I'm always glad when everyone is home, even if it means more fighting and pranks, because that is what makes my family mine.


	14. Hugo Weasley

**Hugo Weasley**

My sister is an obnoxious brat. Mummy would put me in time out in the corner if she heard that, but it is only the truth. Rose is always bragging about things. It irritates me! Today she burst in the door shrieking that she can read better than all of her classmates.

I wouldn't have cared that she said that. Sure, she was bragging, but I don't really care if she makes herself look like an obnoxious buffoon. It was that she followed up her announcement by making fun of me that really annoyed me. She turned to me and said, "You know, Hugo, you need to learn your letters. Then you will be as good a student as I am when you start school. It's cool to be the best student in class."

That has to be one of the meanest things she has ever said to me. I am trying so super hard to learn my letters, but I just can't do it. I can recite my alphabet forwards and backwards. I can count all the way to one hundred. I just can't read or write any letters or numbers.

It's so frustrating. Mummy and Daddy show me my letters all of the time, but I just can't figure out which one is which. All of them look different. Mummy will show me two letters that look different, but she says they are the same letter. It's so easy to mix them up too, because the few I do recognize look like others that I don't know. I hate b's and d's and p's and q's. They look so alike!

It's not fair. I walked and talked before Rose did. I'm better at putting puzzles together than she is. My room is always cleaner than her room is and I get in trouble less often than she does. By the time Rose was my age she already knew how to read and write almost all of her letters, so she thinks I'm dumb.

I hate this. I feel so stupid. Mummy says it is okay that I don't know any letters because I'm only four and I have plenty of time to learn them. She says I'm the smartest four-year-old she knows. I don't believe her. I still want to be smarter.

Mummy is the smartest witch ever, or at least that is what Daddy says. I think it's true though, because she is the Head of the Department of Magical Law Enforcement, and you can't be stupid and be a Ministry Head. Plus, when she took her NEWTS, she had the highest scores in half a decade. Daddy isn't exactly stupid either. Mummy says he's a few ingredients short of a proper potion, but he still manages to beat everyone he challenges at chess. He's also Assistant to the Head of the Aurors, who is Uncle Harry, and he helps Uncle George with his joke shop stuff sometimes.

I'm the only stupid one I guess. It's hard to deal with sometimes. When you are surrounded by smart people and you are the only one who can't do things, it makes you feel really bad. I hate having to ask for help, because I feel like I should be able to figure things out on my own.

I just want to be smart. I know, deep down, that I'm not stupid. I just don't get this reading thing. It's the first thing I have not been able to do. I learn how to do everything else pretty easily. I just can't figure out things that have to do with sight. Sometimes my shapes confuse me. I just don't have ability to recognise numbers or letters. I don't understand why I'm having such a hard time with this. None of the other kids I know are having any problems. Lily knows a bunch of her letters already, and I usually do everything before she does.

My whole world isn't learning and being the best though. I spend time playing outdoors and I like to colour. I read picture books and I watch the television. I spend time at Grandma Molly's house and we cook cookies and pies and things. Grandpa Arthur and I sit together and he tells me stories about when he was little. Lily and I play dress up and pretend to be King and Queen or Muggles. Gran and Gramps let me come over to their Muggle house sometimes and I play with the Muggle toys they bought me, like video games and race cars. I have a lot of fun playing games with people.

I just wish I was as smart as the rest of my family. I love learning and I hate being stumped by something. I'll read someday; until then I guess I'll just do my best to learn my letters.


	15. Lorcan and Lysander Scamander

Lorcanandlysander,  
Lysanderandlorcan,  
Those are our names.  
We aren't really sure  
which name belongs to  
him and which to me because  
people say both of them  
when they see us.

Except for Mummydear,  
Mummydear calls him Lorc.  
And Mummydear calls him Sander.  
She never calls us by  
the names everyone uses.  
Dadadoo calls us Lorcanandlysander  
and Lysanderandlorcan, but  
he also calls us mypups.  
Uncanev calls us lilsprouts.  
Uncaharry and Auntgin  
call us babybugaboos.

We don't know why, but  
Mummydear's names make us sad.  
As sad as we get when  
we take naps in different beds.  
We like it when people call us  
by the same name.  
Just like we like it when  
we play together  
and take baths together  
and listen to stories together.  
We don't like it when  
we have to be apart.

Oh, dear. Are we  
confusing you?  
Mummydear always confuses people.  
And then people complain.  
We'll just have to take turns.  
We don't like that, but  
we don't like confusing people.  
Lorc can go first.

You see, we like to do everything together. We like to play the same games and wear the same clothes. We share the same stuffed animal and sleep in the same bed. We like the same foods and know the same words and have the same playmates. We are the same age and have the same hair colour. Our eyes are the same colour and our hands are exactly the same size. Our height is the same and our weight is the same. Even our thoughts are the same. I know what Sander wants to do before he even tells me, and he always knows when I'm tired and ready for bed because he is too.

Lorc knows that I hate spinach as much as he does and that our favourite food is rhubarb pie. We hate it when Grandmander babysits us because he feeds us prunes and won't let us sleep in the same bed. Mummydear does things like that sometimes too. She makes us nap apart and sit far away from each other at supper. She makes me play alone while she reads to Lorc, and then she'll make Lorc play while she reads to me. When Uncanev babysits he bathes us one at a time and feeds us one at a time and puts us to sleep one at a time.

Oh dear. We are getting sleepy.  
We're sorry but it's time for bed.  
Talking one at a time wears us out.  
We are only one year old.  
Goodbye  
and goodnight.


End file.
